Nephilim Princess
by Lilbit903
Summary: Hermione Granger always thought she was a Muggle-born witch, so it comes as quite a shock when it's revealed she is the Archangel Michael's daughter. Now she and the Winchester's must try and figure out why Heaven and Hell want her so badly, and what plans they have in store for her. But more importantly, they need to know how to stop them.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own NOTHING. I am simply playing in these two worlds that seem to have grasped my attention and refused to let go.**

 **Warnings/Triggers: Language, smut, violence, twisting of Biblical stories/beliefs, and potential sensitive scenes pertaining to what happened in Hell. You've been warned.**

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 ** _Found or Taken;  
Depending on how you look at it._**

Hermione awoke with a groan. Her head was pounding, and opening her eyes was a struggle. Nausea bubbled up through her stomach, forcing her to push back the vomit creeping up her esophagus. The smell of sulfur filled the air making nausea even worse. Forcing her eyes open with a hiss, she blinked at the low lighting. She was in some sort of damp, concrete room with candles spaced around her in a circle. Strange runes were painted on the walls and floor, glowing an eery blue color. Where was she? And more importantly, how did she get here?

"Ah, I see you're awake. Just in time for the party." Came a voice from behind her. Swirling around quickly she let out a pain-filled groan as a wave of dizziness overcame her. Her vision swam as she tried to make out the figure of the person before her. It was definitely male, of that much she was sure. From what she could see, he was wearing a black suit on his rather portly frame. He had short dark hair, with a slightly receding hairline. His eyes were a hazel color, almost like moss covered earth. He held himself with an air of arrogance, and she had no doubt he was a man used to getting what he wanted.

"Who are you? And where am I? How did I get here?" She demanded, stepping towards him only to quickly jump back when she received a shock. Apparently, those runes were designed to keep people in. Glancing around frantically, she tried not to panic. She would get out of this, she was the Brightest Witch of her age damn it! The man before her sent her a sinister grin.

"The question you should be asking darling isn't who, but what." He tsked at her, his hazel eyes becoming a disturbing red and overtaking the whites of his eyes like ink spreading through water. She scrambled back from him, she had heard stories of creatures like this. Demons. Creatures born from the blood of Lucifer and hellfire and brimstone. Pure embodiments of evil, whose only desire was to destroy.

"I see you know what I am, good. It'll save me the headache of trying to explain it to your pitiful mind. Name's Crowley, love. And you are here for a very special purpose." the Demon, Crowley told her. The redness of his eyes receding, leaving behind no trace of the monster that lurked within.

"And what purpose could I possibly serve to a Demon of Hell?" She snarled, eyes searching the room for a way out. There had to be some way to escape before he got a chance to enact his plans. The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees, even as the candles surrounding her flared.

"King of Hell, actually. And you, my little poppet are my one-way ticket to freedom. You might not know what you are, but I do." He singsonged at her. Stepping closer to the circle she was imprisoned in, he sent her a tooth-filled smile.

"You are an Archangel's daughter. Michael's daughter as a matter of fact. And both Heaven and Hell have been searching for you since the day you were conceived. Leave it to Michael to grant his child the blessings of the Angel's and call her a witch." The demon smirked at her. He began to pace around her, and she turned with him never revealing her back to him. How could she be an angel's daughter, and more importantly how could she be an Archangel's daughter? She was a muggle-born witch! Not some child born from an Angel, he must be mistaken.

"It was quite a bit of chance that I found you actually. See, after you and your little friends defeated the wizard you called Voldemort, his soul was sent to my domain. And as a bargaining chip to avoid being tortured for all eternity, he told me about you. The foretold Nephilim Princess. God's safety net, as it were." He snarled at her, eyes returning to the inky blackness showcasing his anger.

A loud bang interrupted him, and before he could say another word, he was thrown across the room. Two men stood in a doorway she had seen earlier. Both were holding shotguns, aiming them at the Demon laying in a pile across the room. The first difference she noticed about them was height. One stood at least six foot five, while the other stood closer to six foot one if she had to guess. They were both lean and muscular, wearing plaid shirts and denim jeans, as well as work boots. The tall one had what appeared to be shaggy black hair, while the other had short brown hair. They were too far away for her to notice eye color, but all together they were rather handsome.

"Man he sure talks a lot. You okay there, sweetheart?" The shorter man asked. Sending her a concerned glance, he moved closer to the circle still training his gun on the Demon. Nodding her head vigorously, she eyed him speculatively.

"How do I know you're not like him?" Se questioned, moving more towards the center of the circle. Currently, she wasn't sure who to trust. Especially with the Demon's words racing through her mind. How could she be Nephilim? And an Archangel's daughter? It wasn't plausible. There must've been a mistake.

"I'm not a freakin' Demon. Name's Dean Winchester, and that over there is my little brother Sam. We're here to help." He told her, nodding his head in the taller man, Sam's, direction.

Letting out a snort she couldn't help but laugh, "Little brother?"

Dean rolled his eyes and squatted down next to the circle surrounding her. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, but can it wait 'til we get you the hell outta here?" He asked, using his knife to disturb the runic circle containing her. Once it was broken, it along with all of the other strange runes stopped glowing.

Before she could blink, the Demon had disappeared.

"Damn coward." Dean snarled, before turning to face her fully. He stepped closer to her, gently grabbing her hand and turning. Tugging her along behind him, he held the shotgun one handed as he led her through a maze of hallways. His brother Sam followed closely behind, scanning the halls with his eyes and the gun. Soon, after a dizzying amount of turns, they broke through a door and were met with daylight.

Squinting her eyes at the sudden brightness, she gasped surprised to see two men with giant wings protruding from their backs standing before her. Just what had she gotten herself into?

"Easy child, we are not here to harm you. You're far too valuable for that." The dark-skinned angel told her earnestly, his eyes roving over her hungrily. His stare unnerved her, he was wearing a typical business suit, and were it not for the giant wings she could see protruding from his back, she would never know he was an angel.

"Calm yourself, Uriel. If we scare her, she will run." The other angel told Uriel, watching her carefully. He was wearing a khaki trench coat over a suit. What kind of angels wore trenchcoats?

"Cas, how did you find us?" Dean asked, staring at the man, no angel, in the trench coat. She noticed he seemed to have pushed her behind him slightly, a fact she was currently grateful for. She had no wand, and therefore no means of escape. So she'd take the handsome man's protection if he was willing to offer it.

"Step aside, maggot. She is above you. She is Divine." Uriel spat at Dean, causing a roiling pit of anger to begin to form in the pit of her stomach. How dare this angel swoop in and insult Dean after he had saved her from a demon. Sam stepped forward, raising his hand towards the angels, only to be thrown into the wall behind them.

"Your tricks don't work on me, boy!" Uriel snarled, pointing his finger at Sam, causing him to pass out.

Letting out a sharp gasp, she took a tentative step towards him. What type of angels were these creatures? Certainly, none she had ever heard of.

"Not the good kind," Dean told her, startling her. She had been unaware of speaking aloud. A habit she developed when she was overwhelmed and trying to process.

Turning to face the angels she hissed at them,"How dare you? They just saved me from a Demon, risking their lives when you couldn't even make it through the doors. And this... This is how you repay them? By insulting them, and injuring them? You should be ashamed!" Her hands had balled into fists, resting on her hips as she glared at them. Ignoring the chuckles coming from Dean she took a step towards them, feeling a jolt of surprise when they took a hasty step back.

"You will fix him. Now!" she snapped, pointing at Cas, "And you will apologize!" She gestured at Uriel.

For a moment, he looked ready to argue, before he bowed his head in Dean's direction. "I apologize." He bit out as if it were killing him to do so. Nodding once, she turned her attention to Sam, pleased when he stirred and sat up.

"We'll be in touch. Keep her safe." Cas told them before he and Uriel took to the sky in a powerful blast of their wings. Leaving behind one confused witch, and two slightly smug Hunters.

"So, where to now sweetheart?" Dean asked sending her a winning frowned, not being entirely sure where to go, "I-I don't know." She sighed returning to watching the sky.

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 **A/N: So I'm starting a new story, this will most likely be a Dean/Hermione story simply because I am in love with the idea of them. And honestly, there are not enough stories like this out there. Like my other stories, I have no idea how long this one will be, because the Muse tends to come by, hit me with a stick and say write, on her own time. To those of you wondering about Dirty Laundry, I plan to go over the chapters, review and revise them because I honestly feel as if I could do better with writing that particular story, so please be patient with me as I work to make it better. Until I have previous chapters up to par, I will not be updating it. As for QoF, Chapter 14 has been sent to my amazing Beta Vino Amore, so it should be published within the next few days or so. As always Reviews are my lifeblood, and I appreciate them greatly. I will send out cookies if I have them to anyone who reviews. Til next time, Lilbit903**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hunting Things, Saving People; The Family Business**_

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 ***48 hours previously- Adams Tennessee***

Dean Winchester rolled his eyes at the two angels staring at him in his and his brother's motel room. Couldn't they have at least one moment's peace? He was tired and dirty and bloody after dealing with Tennessee's infamous Bell Witch. The crazy bitch put up quite a fight and finding her bones to salt and burn had required more effort than most. Kate Batts had done more than enough research into the Occult to know to hide her bones, but he and Sam had found them buried near the Red River, just a few miles away from where Bell Farm used to stand. She had spent the past century haunting the Bell family, and after she started causing grizzly murders of Family members, the brothers decided it was time to put her down.

"What do you two want?" Dean groused, heading for the bathroom, intent on washing the filth off of him. Sam had already had a turn in the shower and was currently sitting at the small table in the shabby motel room looking for their next lead. Castiel cocked his head at an angle, squinting his eyes at Dean, while Uriel all out glared at him.

"Watch your tone, boy. We require your assistance." Uriel sneered at him, his features crinkling in disproval.

Dean snorted at him, "You know you look constipated when you do that, right?"

Sam let out a chuckle, looking up from his laptop to grin at his brother. "What do you need our help for anyways?" Sam directed at the angels, frowning slightly. He and Dean were already working to defeat the Leviathans, he couldn't see how they could be much more help than that. Not that they were actually helping, more like running around without a clue.

"We need you to retrieve someone for us. A woman who will be taken by Crowley tomorrow." Castiel told them quietly.

Dean let out a growl, "Why can't you go get her? And better yet, why is she so important? We're kinda busy keeping the Leviathan's from making the world their personal cattle factory."

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to. She can help defeat the Leviathans. For now, that's all you need to know." Uriel glared at them, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

Dean and Sam looked at each other with raised eyebrows. If this woman could help defeat the big mouthed assholes, then they were going on a rescue mission. "Alright, we're in. Where's she gonna be?"

 ***Present day- Centralia, Pennsylvania***

Dean and Sam looked around the derelict town unimpressed. This was where Crowley was holed up? A burnt out coal town that was still currently burning. All of the roads leading to the town had been blocked off, meaning they had to park Baby at one of the last turnoffs before trekking nearly eight miles through the dense forest just to reach the mostly abandoned town. Mostly abandoned because a few brave souls remained, refusing to leave and give up their property rights. It meant there were no suitable hotels, but plenty of houses they could squat in.

"So what's the plan?" Sam asked, sitting with his back pressed against the wall of some old living room. The paint was peeling and cobwebs were in every corner, but at least it was dry and gave some protection from the heat.

"Well, I say we figure out where he's keeping her, go in guns blazing and blast the fucker full of rock salt. Then we rescue the girl and figure out how she can help solve out Leviathan problem. After that, we wing it." Dean replied, loading up his shotgun and checking to see that he would have plenty of ammunition in case Crowley and his henchmen put up more of a fight that necessary.

Sam threw his head back with a sigh, "Great, so the plan is basically no plan."

Dean threw him a smirk, "Pretty much. You still got Ruby's knife?"

Sam rolled his eyes and held up the demon killing blade. He never let it leave his possession anymore unless he was giving it to Dean to kill a Demon.

"I believe we've located the girl." came the voice of Castiel.

Dean gave a startled jump and pointed his finger at Cas, "You know, most people would knock."

Castiel sent Dean a confused look, "I am not most people. I am an Angel of the Lord."

Sam let out a bark of laughter raising his head up to stare at his brother, "He's got you there."

Dean shrugged and turned away from them, returning to his weapons. "So where is this chick anyways? The place is a ghost town. I don't particularly feel like traipsing all over it if you know where she is."

Castiel frowned at them before striding across the small room and grabbing Sam by the shirt collar and hauling him up. He then proceeded to lead him across the room to Dean, before transporting them both to a parking lot of an abandoned factory. Dean stumbled and looked around surprised, while Sam groaned and rubbed at his temples.

"That gives me a headache you know?" Sam gripped at Castiel. Castiel merely stared at him, expression blank. Dean sighed and eyed the old building in front of him. So the answer to their prayers was in there. Great, just great.

"All right. Let's get this over with." Dean groused, turning to indicate Cas should take them back to their weapons so they could go in guns blazing as usual.

 ***~*Nephilim Princess*~***

Hermione turned to look at Dean and Sam, wondering just what these two were in order for what were apparently angels to be working with them. Squaring her shoulder's she stared at them in confusion. They looked normal enough, although both were a little too handsome for their own goods. They both had an air of trouble around them, not the 'murdering rapist kind' but the kind mothers warned their daughters about. In the bright light of day, she could see the tall one -Sam's hair wasn't actually black, but rather a dark chocolate brown.

"So, are you Nephilim too?" She asked quizzically. At their confused looks she let out a long suffering sigh. Guess that was a no then.

"No. We're hunters. Uh, Demon hunters that is. Not your ordinary hunters." Dean told her, stepping closer to his brother to help him off the ground.

Sam was staring at her intently. "Did you say Nephilim?"

Hermione nodded, growing leery of the way the conversation was starting to turn. For once in his life, Dean found an ounce of tact and patted his brother on the shoulder.

"Not now, Sammy. We'll figure it out at Bobby's." He directed, hitching his gun across his shoulder and starting to walk back towards the house they had been squatting in.

Hermione jogged to catch up to him, "I'm sorry but who is Bobby? And more importantly, where are we?" she questioned.

"He's like a father figure to us. Helps out with the hunting through research and on occasion joins in on the hunt. As for where we are, Centralia, Pennsylvania." Sam pitched in, falling into step beside Dean's other side.

Pennsylvania was a long way from England. Even longer without her wand. She found herself coming to the realization that until she was able to locate one or figure out the world she found herself in, she had to rely entirely on their mercy and help. A situation she was not at all comfortable with.

"So where are we heading?" She finally asked after walking through the abandoned town for nearly fifteen minutes.

"To gather our supplies, then to Baby. And then Sioux Falls, South Dakota. We'll be safe there, and if there's any kind of lore about what you are, that is if you are anything, Bobby will have it." Dean told her, walking up the steps of an empty single story ranch style house. Following inside tentatively, she wondered just who Baby was. They didn't seem to have a normal name. Perhaps a pet? She really hoped it was a pet. Because for some odd reason, she didn't like the sound of admiration in Dean's voice when she spoke about them.

Sam and Dean had already rolled up their sleeping bags and were currently packing up ammunitions when she made her way into the small living area that they had been occupying. It didn't seem as if they'd been here long, and from the size of the town, it almost looked as if they knew exactly where to find her.

"How did you know where to find me?" She voiced her suspicions, watching them carefully for any sign of a lie.

"Oh, well you know the guy in the trench coat?" Sam started.

"The angel you mean?" Hermione interrupted, at Sam's annoyed look she frowned, "I'm sorry, please continue."

"Right. Well, he knew where to find you. Most likely due to all of the Angel warding Crowley had in place. He brought us to you, and told us to rescue you." Sam finished, shoving his laptop into the messenger bag and glancing up at her. Dean zipped up his pack from across the room, glaring at his brother slightly.

"So we did. And now, we're getting you the hell outta dodge, before Crowley comes back with any more Demons." He said, leaving the house. At Sam's expectant look she sighed and followed him obediently. Men.

After nearly four hours trekking through the woods, she found herself missing her wand even more. What she wouldn't give for a cooling charm right about now. No sooner than the thought left her mind did a cool breeze blow through the forest. Startled, she put it down to coincidence. As they approached the road, Dean stopped before a black muscle car. One she wasn't familiar with.

"Hey Baby. Ya miss me?" Dean asked the car, patting the hood.

"This is Baby?" Hermione chuckled.

Dean sent her a glare. "Yes. Something wrong with that?"

Hermione snorted and shook her head, "Not at all. I just wasn't expecting Baby to be a car is all."

"I'll have you know that this is a nineteen sixty-seven Chevrolet Impala. Not just some car." Dean told her seriously.

"Understood." She told him raising her hands in surrender and ignoring the inordinate amount of relief she felt that Baby was a car and not a girlfriend. Climbing into the back seat she wondered just what was coming, and what role she had to play in it. After all, she had already run into Angels, Demons, and Hunters and she'd only been awake for six hours.

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 **A/N: Second Chapter of Nephilim Princess is up and running. And it's off to Bobby's we go. Keep in mind that this story is pretty much non-canon, although we will follow some of the major story arcs. Go ahead and breathe a sigh of relief because I will not be killing Bobby. As aways reviews are welcome. Til next time, Lilbit903.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Welcome to Sioux Falls, Population; You.**

Hermione wasn't quite sure what to expect upon arriving in Sioux Falls, but a rundown junkyard wasn't it. As Dean drove up the driveway to Singer's Salvage Yard, Hermione wondered if she were in the right place. She had already attempted pinching herself and found that this was definitely no dream. It was, however, very surreal. How could everything she'd known been a lie? How was it possible she was an Archangel's daughter? Much less the Archangel Michael's? And why had her mother never told her? Unless her mother wasn't her actual mother. That thought sent chills through Hermione's spine. She could handle not being a witch. But the thought that her mother, her sweet, smiling, loving mother, not being hers terrified her.

The car rolled to a stop, and Sam got out first, heading for the trunk to get the duffle bags she had seen him carrying when they left Centralia. Dean turned around and sent her a grin, "Welcome to Bobby's. He's a little rough around the edges, but you get used to him," he told her before stepping out of the car himself. Glancing at the brother's she wondered just how rough their version of rough around the edges was, and wondered if her chances were any better with the Angels. At least they had a reason to protect her. She hoped. Finding her resolve she too got out of the Impala and stared up at the two story house in front of her. It was quaint if a little run down. It needed a fresh coat of paint, and she could tell it had been some time since the gutters had been cleaned properly, an upstairs shutter was hanging precariously, but overall it screamed homey. Quite like the Burrow did.

That thought sent a pang of pain through her heart. The Burrow. Would she ever see it again? After Ron's death in the Final Battle, Hermione had spent months living there with Molly, consoling the grieving mother over the loss of her youngest son. He had died pushing Ginny out of the way of a stray killing curse, but he had been too slow to dodge it himself. Ginny had cried for weeks on end, before cursing Ron's name and then begging any God who would listen to bring him back, before finally settling into a silent acceptance that her brother was gone. It had caused a strain on Ginny's relationship with Harry, especially because she pushed him away at every turn. They had finally started moving forward in their relationship when Hermione had been taken.

"Coming?" Sam's voice cut through the fog that was becoming her thoughts. Hermione nodded, and surreptitiously wiped at her cheeks to check for tears. Thankfully her hands came away dry. Following the two men up the stairs and to the front door, she found herself gasping in shock when a cup of cold water was thrown on her.

"What in the bloody Hell was that for!" she screeched, wiping her face and glaring at her attacker. An older man stood before her with a sheepish look. His face was worn and lined, covered by an auburn beard, and eyes slightly shielded with a baseball cap. He wore plaid, like the Winchesters and she wondered if it was some kind of uniform.

"Uh, sorry about that. Had to be sure you weren't a Demon." The man, whom she presumed to be Bobby said, holding out his hand in apology. Dean rolled his eyes and let out an irritated huff. Before he could say a word though, Hermione was gingerly reaching for Bobby's hand to shake, only to pull back with a hiss to see blood welling up in her palm.

Bobby sent her a grin, "Or a Leviathan."

Hermione sneered at him, ready to lay into him for assaulting her with a blade instead of just asking, but Dean clamped his hand on her shoulder, moving them inside. "Told ya he was a little rough around the edges."

Hermione huffed in annoyance and checked her hand over, surprised to see it was already knitting itself back together. That had never happened before. Perhaps it was a side effect of the Angel blood. Oh, how she wished she could research this! It was so confusing, and if she knew what she was, maybe she could know how to fix it. If there was a way to fix it.

"Well, you ain't a Demon or a Leviathan, but you ain't exactly human either. So what are you?" Bobby asked, sending her a curious look when he noticed her hand had already healed.

"She's Nephilim." came Cas' voice.

"Nephilim? Are you joking? They aren't allowed. Haven't been since Noah's Flood." Bobby grunted, sparing Cas a glance before focusing on her again. It made Hermione nervous. Like she was a bug under a microscope.

"They won't hurt you," Cas told her, shooting the other men in the room a glare. He stepped closer to her. Cocking his head to the side he smiled, "My name is Castiel, niece. And you look so much like your father."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat at those words. How could she look like her father? How was she supposed to know what an Archangel she'd never met looked like? Staring at Castiel, who stood much taller than her with his wings tucked around his shoulder's, she couldn't help but let out a sob. This was wrong. It was all wrong. She wasn't an Archangel's daughter! She was Hermione Jane Granger, daughter to Phyllis and Jeremy Granger, Muggle dentists. She was a muggle born witch, one who had fought alongside Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley and so many others in a war they should have never been a part of! This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

"Castiel, maybe give her a moment. She's had a rough couple of days I'm sure." Sam broke in, causing Hermione to send him a small smile of thanks.

Castiel stepped back, looking downtrodden and she tried so very hard to ignore the pang of guilt that ran through her at the defeated look in his eyes. "It's nothing personal, Castiel. This is all just so very sudden. Just the other night I had fallen asleep in my bed, safe and warm. And then I wake up to a Demon telling me I'm a Nephilim and now, I'm here. I need to process everything. I do hope you understand?" She rambled, not wanting to hurt the angel who was apparently also her uncle's feelings.

Casitel nodded, "Of course, Hermione. Take as much time as you need."

Bobby was still staring at her like something he wanted to study, but at Dean's warning look he cleared his throat, "There's a bedroom upstairs, along with a bathroom. You're more than welcome to it. I'm sure one of the boys can find you some clothes, if you tell them what size you wear."

Hermione felt herself blush at the thought of telling either of the Winchester's such personal details about herself. She could only imagine the kind of underwear they might bring back.

"There will be no need for that. I will gather Hermione some clothes." Castiel told them all, before blinking out of the room. That was something Hermione would very much like to learn hoe to do.

Dean raised his eyebrows and grinned, clasping his hands together. "Well then, looks that that settles it. Feel free to go wash up and take a nap. We'll have Cas leave your clothes in your room, and make sure he doesn't see more of you than an uncle should."

Hermione got the distinct feeling he was enjoying this far too much. Sighing, she made her way up the stairs and into the bathroom, trying to ignore the fact that they were all most likely talking about her.

"So, any thoughts Bobby?" Sam asked as soon as he heard the upstairs bathroom door close. Hermione was obviously no Demon, or Leviathan but she also didn't look like any Nephilim he'd ever heard of. The legends told of giants, and she was quite frankly very petite. And if she was truly Michaels daughter, than shouldn't that make her a literal giant?

"Well, Castiel seems to think she's the Archangel's daughter. Just don't make any sense. I mean, God prohibitted Nephilim being born after Caanan. They were also supposedly all sons, born from the son's of God and daughters of Adam. As far as I know, none of them were ever girls." Bobby said, making his way to his lore books.

Nephilim were rare, hell archelogists were just now digging up their bones and actually acknowledging that they once exsisted. He doubted there would be much these books could tell him, but he was willing to look. Sam and Dean followed him into the room, watching as he picked up various books, before handing the pile to the both of them. "Read. Educate yourselves." Bobby told them, before going back to scanning the books.

Dean gave a long suffering sigh, but sat down to start flipping through his half of the stack, while Sam started on his half. All three of them worked in relative silence, except for the sound of pages turning, until Castiel appeared in the room.

"You won't find anything in there. At least, nothing about her." He told them, standing in the middle of the room. He looked rather odd holding several shopping bags, wearing his usual trench coat.

"Oh yeah, and why's that?" Dean asked, leaning back in his chair to stare at the angel before him. Castiel sighed, "Because no one like her has ever existed. She's one of a kind. The only child of an Archangel to ever exist, and possibly the only one that will ever exist." He frowned, before popping out of the room only to return again withing the second.

Sam raised his brows at that. A new breed of Nephilim? That could explain why she didn't look like what the legends described. But it still didn't explain why she existed at all. Why would God lift the ban on Nephilim, that is if he lifted it at all?

"So why is she here? Why now? And why does she have to be Michael's daughter?" Dean asked looking slightly put out. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he could definitely appreciate a good looking female, and Hermione was good looking indeed. Castiel sent him a glare.

"Don't. Even. Think. About it. She's not like the other women you lure to your bed, Dean. If I think even for a second, you will harm her, I will take her with me." He threatened, and for the first time in a long time, Dean was actually scared of Cas. Apparently, Hermione was indeed special.

"Excuse me, but I do believe I can handle myself." Hermione intoned from the bottom of the stairs, sending them all a level glare. Dean swallowed at the sight of her. Before she had been wearing ratty sweats and an old jumper, with her hair piled atop her head messily. Now, Her dark curls were flowing around her face and suddenly he could see the angel in her. She was wearing fitted blue jeans and a white tank top, and he felt his lip twitch at the sight of the blue plaid shirt wrapped around her waist. Apparently, Castiel was trying to subliminally imply that she was family. Dean didn't think he'd ever see her in a sisterly way though, not with how his dick twitched at the sight of her.

"Course you can, Princess. Good old Uncle Cas was just being overprotective, is all." Dean smirked at her.

Hermione frowned and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and lifting her breasts in the most delightful way, something Dean was keen to stare at until Castiel stepped in front of him. "Dean, I mean it!" He growled. Sighing Dean raised his hands in surrender, ignoring his brother's chuckles and Bobby's muttered 'idjit." Honestly, looking wasn't going to hurt her.

"If you're all quite finished, I think we need to discuss, just how I got here, and if I'll be able to return. And if not, we need to create an identity for myself so that I'm able to work and get a living of my own." Hermione snapped, having enough of their foolishness for one night. It was bad enough Dean had played crappy rock music on the drive here, leaving her with Bad Moon Rising stuck in her head, now he had the indecency to stare at her in a way that made her body heat up all over. After ignoring her for the entire ride here. Honestly, the man was ludicrous if he thought she would just fall into bed with him, no matter how much she might want to.

"She's right," Sam spoke up, sobering up from his humor at his brother being given the stay away speech. Nodding they all sat down and looked to Castiel, seeing as he had the most information on Hermione.

Cas rubbed a hand down his face in a human manner, regretting being the one to volunteer for telling his niece about her place in this new world, and wondering if it were too late to back out.

 **A/N: And Chapter 3 is done... Please let me know what you think. Reviews are always welcome. Til next time, Lilbit903.**


	4. Chapter 4

**"It's better to keep one's mouth firmly closed, than to put your foot in it."**

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Hermione sat in a state of shock on Bobby's worn couch staring at what was apparently one of her many uncles. The outward face of Castiel's vessel showed no emotion, but she could tell he was nervous by the fluttering of his black wings. They were tucked around him protectively and she marveled at the stains that seemed to cover the entire span of them. Black soot clung to what had once been white or possibly gray feathers, and she could tell that the top portion of his right wing had been broken and never healed properly. Letting her eyes drift to her hands folded in her lap, she felt tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes. Her whole life had been a lie. According to Cas, she wasn't a true witch, but the powers that Michael had passed onto her manifested as such due to being placed in an area that pulsated with magic. She felt herself scowl with the vicious thoughts running through her mind. Guess Malfoy was right, after all, she wasn't meant to be a witch.

"I'm not sure what to do here," Castiel said, watching as silent tears streamed down Hermione's face.

Dean shook his head and frowned, " I think you've done enough. Just, give her a minute. You just laid a shit ton of information at her feet and it might take more than three seconds to process everything." He felt as if his mind was still spinning. Apparently, this girl, though he couldn't really call her that seeing as they were the same age, had grown up believing she was a witch. Had fought in a war against a Dark Wizard who wanted to eradicate her kind and had even been tortured for his cause, only to find out the war itself was never truly hers. That her friends and family would most likely forget her due to Crowley's influence, and that everything she had ever known wasn't what she thought. Not to mention being yet another pawn in the war between Heaven and Hell. It was a lot to take in.

Hermione let out a deep sigh. "So, let me make sure that I have this all correct. The Archangel Michael, possessed my father long enough to ensure my mother was indeed pregnant with me, convinced them to move to an area in London saturated with magic to hide the heavenly signature left by my conception, and then returned to Heaven and acted as if nothing happened because another Angel by the name of Josiah told him too. Am I getting everything so far?" At Castiel's nod she pursed her lips and continued, "And then, I grew up to fight a war I never should have been a part of because of my perceived Blood Status, being nearly killed several times over, not to mention tortured by a mad woman on the floor of one of my classmates homes. And after all of that. When I finally thought I might be able to be happy in life and had gotten over the nasty divorce between myself and my husband, I find out that I'm really an Archangel's daughter and some weapon to be used against what were they again? Leviathans?"

By now she was slightly out of breath and red faced in anger. This wasn't fair, or right, and honestly, she wanted to meet this Michael to give him a piece of her mind. Why was she expected to help win yet another war? Why was she suddenly the Chosen One? Was she being petulant? Perhaps. But for once in her life, she just wanted to enjoy it, not have to worry about keeping two boys alive, yet again.

Castiel's wings shifted again, bringing her attention fully onto him. "I-I well, yes. That's the gist of it." Hermione felt a scream bubble up in her throat and escape before she could prevent it. It sounded her agitation, her pain, her complete frustration at the events occurring in her life which she now felt she had no control over. In an instant, it was over and gut-wrenching sobs shook her body. This wasn't how her life was supposed to be. She was supposed to be married, with at least one child by now and working her way up to become Minister for Magic. Instead, she was sitting in the living room of a paranoid man who hunted Demons, ghosts, and God knows what else in his spare time. She was startled from her despair by the tentative pat on her shoulder and the words, "There, there?"

Glancing up she couldn't help but laugh at Sam's confused face as if he wasn't quite sure he was doing the right thing. She sent him a watery smile and laughed finding the whole situation bizarre. Here was this giant of a man trying to comfort her while the other men in the room were giving her slightly startled looks unsure what to do with a slightly hysterical female. "Thank you, Sam. I'm just a bit overwhelmed at the moment."

Dean let out a snort from the doorway and sent her a smirk, "Pretty sure we all are, Sweetheart."

Ignoring the glare Cas sent him, he approached her other side and sat next to her on the worn couch. "I get it. Hell, we both do. We've been parts of a war that should've never been ours since we were kids. We've had to do things and learn things no kid ever should. But you know what? Every time we save an innocent person, or hell even the whole damn world, we know that we wouldn't change a damn thing. And I don't think you would either."

Hermione took a moment to consider his words. She knew he was right. Regardless of what happened with Ron, of being tortured, of being called a Mudblood for seven years of her life, of growing up with the knowledge that she was different she wouldn't change a thing. Because even though she might not be a true witch, she had helped improve the lives of those to come after her. Muggle-borns were no longer looked down upon in the Wizarding world in Britain, no longer accused of stealing magic from so called pure bloodlines. Their lives had been drastically improved thanks to her sacrifices and those of everyone who had fought in the war against Voldemort.

Nodding in agreement she wiped the tears from her cheeks and met Cas' worried gaze, "I'll help. But I'll need to know exactly what I'm up against. And what my exact role is. I won't be a lamb lead to slaughter." She told him thinking of how Dumbledore had held back so much useful information from Harry, only for him to have to sacrifice himself, not knowing if he would survive.

Bobby let out a chuckle from his place in his arm chair, "I like her."

Sam and Dean shared a look over Hermione's head while Cas met Bobby's eyes. "Am I going to have to worry about her here? I need to report back to the Garrison to let them know that Hermione is willing to help us, and to choose a few Angel's to aid her in her training."

Bobby sent him a middle finger, "Of course she's safe here, you idjit."

Now it was Hermione's turn to snort. Bobby sent her a wink causing her to giggle. He reminded her of her Uncle James. Large and quiet with a penchant for calling others on their bullshit. She was saddened that he had never married before he died in a car crash when she was sixteen. The funeral had been harder on her that she had let on to anyone, and thanks to being his only niece, he left his entire estate to her.

Cas sent Bobby a withering glare before disappearing too fast for her eyes to track. It was almost like apparating.

Bobby sent her a smile, "I think you might want to get cleaned up. There's a bedroom upstairs that hasn't been claimed by these idjits. You're free to use it and the bathroom. I'll order some pizza and send them out to pick it up, and some clothes for you."

Hermione blushed and started to stammer out a response before being cut off by Dean, "Don't worry about it, sweetheart. I'm guessing you're a medium. Maybe a 36C and a size four? Am I right?"

Sending him a glare she snarled, "My name is Hermione. And none of that is your business."

Dean looked put out, even more so when Sam began to laugh wholeheartedly. Maybe that was what caused him to snap back, "Don't flatter yourself. I need to know so I can get you some proper clothes. And if you didn't have such a difficult name to pronounce I wouldn't call you sweetheart."

Sending him another death glare she frowned, "Call me 'Mione then."

At his nod, she stood and turned to thank Bobby before making her way upstairs hoping that they would be back with something suitable for her to wear by the time she finished. She ignored the murmured conversation that started when she left the room and prayed that she might be able to make it through this new chapter of her life relatively unscathed. Unfortunately, she didn't think anyone was listening.

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 **A/N: Please don't be too angry with me about being gone for so long! I'm sorry this is a short chapter, but I hit a mental roadblock with all of my stories, and this is the first thing I was able to actually write that I thought would be good enough to publish. Hopefully now, my Muse will be willing to remove the construction that prevented new chapters from forming. Reviews are always welcome. Til next time, Lilbit903.**


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